“That would be me. And you’re the bitch I found snooping where she didn’t belong,” I snide, faking a smile of my own.
She actually has the audacity to look offended at my remark, before she schools her emotions and the fakeness returns. “Oh, that little thing, I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.” She waves her hand, brushing off the fact that her “misunderstanding” nearly cost her her life.
“I was only looking out for my RyRy after all. I’m sure as hisfriendyou would do the same when it came to protecting him from…unknownpeople.” Her hands clasp behind her back, pushing her chest out in an attempt to look… you know what? I don’t actually know what she’s attempting. Seduction? Cuteness?
Do I give off desperation vibes I’m not aware of? I must if she thinks this is going to work on me.
“Let’s start over, I’m sure we’ll get along. The best of friends even,” Kelsie coos, and I have to stop myself from throwing up on her neon pink stilettos.
“Uhh, thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”Under lock and key, never to be released again.
”In fact, let me give you a piece of bestie advice now! I know a great spot by the announcer where you can see the match so much better!”
The fight has already begun and this conversation doesn’t seem to have a stopping point, which has me missing my man in action. If allowing her to show me a better location, gets her to shut the hell up and leave me alone, then I suppose no harm can come from moving to the other side. After all, who can say no to a better view of Ry’s flexing muscles straining under the buzz of fluorescent lighting.
Nodding to give her the go ahead, she jumps—literally hops—with excitement. Her shirt isstrugglingto contain her bouncing tits as she skips along the side of the ring and around the corner. With a sigh, I put my feet into motion, following behind while trying to also keep eyes on the match.
Ry has taken a few hits, his bleeding lip and the welt forming on his right side, are good indicators. As my eyes clock the injuries, cataloging them in my head, I’m getting increasingly more irritated that I missed it. A neon flash in front of me has me searching for Kelsie once again, as she retreats along the far wall but as I look back towards my guy, I stop dead.
Not by my choice mind you, as I walked face first into some burly-chested dude I hadn’t seen in my route.
“Well, howdy there lil’ lady. My apologies.” The looming figure says as he looks me up and down. A grin alights his face, showing his crooked teeth but never reaching a sincere height. It’s forced. Fake. And all too telling.
When I take a step back toreallyget a good look at him, it doesn’t do me any favors. There’s something about him that seems out of place among this crowd—and I’m not talking about the thick southern twang of an accent. His black and grey suit looks too polished, hair slicked back too neatly, and something behind the hazel of his eyes that makes my inner child want to run and cry in a corner.
My instincts are going haywire, alarm bells ringing throughout my head, screaming that this is someone to stay the fuck away from. Far away.
“All good, excuse me,” I briskly retort and try to push past him. I still see Kelsie up ahead, or at least what I think is her and her eye-insulting outfit, but as I go to move forward, a large palm grabs me around my upper arm to stop me.
Oh, now you’ve fucking gone and done it.
I hadn’t planned on getting into a fight myself while here, but if this asshat doesn’t remove his meaty girlfriend-substitute from my skin, I’m going to be the new headliner.
Before I get the chance to spin and insult the owner of the hand, I feel a prick in the side of my neck and a burning sensation begins to flood my veins. I try to suck in a breath, but the action hits me sharp and heavy. Darkness descends around the edges of my vision, as the world tilts and I collapse into unknown arms.
I can’t feel any part of me, everything has gone numb from whatever toxin is now flowing through my body. My mind foggy with a cloud of confusion. I’m still spatially aware that there are people around me, but I’m not able to see or feel them.
“She’s stable enough for transport,” a male voice says from somewhere around me. The unfamiliar tone, quiet and distorted by the ringing in my ears.
An agonizing jolt of pain rips through me and I would give anything in this moment to be able to scream. Flames burn through me, reaching every inch of skin, every cell, as if I’m being encased in a shroud of lava. Little licks of the flame continue to hit every one of my nerve endings while I travel further and further away from consciousness, until there is nothing.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Max
Ryder has been engaged in his fight for twenty minutes already, but Mik still hasn’t returned from her trip to the bathroom. She should have been back by now, and I know she wouldn’t want to miss his match.
Standing and heading to the main floor, the other two don’t even question my leaving. We’ve been known to split our time between the crowd and up here in the stands, so it comes as no surprise that I would take off midway. When I get down the stairs, I’m immediately heading for cage-side. If I’ve learned anything about the new Bear, it’s that fighting has her practically panting on all fours.
I’ve seen the looks she gives, the subtle clenching of her thighs and tightness in her jaw when Ry and Z talk about their matches in detail. The way she gravitated to the sound of labored breathing or yelling when we were at the beach. Or how she hovers a little longer over the boxing matches as she flickers through the TV channels. Our girl is enamored by brutality, entranced by battle. Which I suppose fits, considering where I saw her again for the first time.
The patrons are all screaming, some in support and others uttering profanities at the fighters, but none of the voices are the one I’m looking for. That soothing tone which penetrates my darkest thoughts, providing me with a beacon of light to follow out. The longer it takes to find her, the more my gut seems to twist, like someone is shoving a lemon-coated knife right through it. A feeling of something not being right, deepens with every passing minute.
When she isn’t in the main crowd, I decide to do a lap of the cage in hopes of finding her wide-eyed and so enthralled in the fight, she forgot to tell us she was coming down here. As I turn the corner for the southernmost side, light reflecting off something catches me in the eye.
The floor here is concrete and unknown substances, there shouldn’t be anything shiny enough to hold a glare.
Closing in on it, my stomach plummets into my asshole when I see it’s Mik’s phone. The screen is cracked, back scratched, but the background pic of the five of us at the house shows clear as day. Notifications of missed messages and calls fill her display, the bubbles appearing over our faces, but no sounds echo over the roar of the crowd.
